The New Order
by thewindrider278
Summary: AU Ororo is a vampire and the well respected leader of the Death Dealers. What happens when she crosses paths with a dark stranger with secrets that could lead to the end of her kind? NOTE I did borrow the idea from Underworld.
1. Prologue

Summary: AU Ororo is a vampire, but not just any vampire. She is a well respected leader of the Death Dealers. What happens when she crosses paths with a dark stranger. A stranger with secrets that could lead to the end of her kind? NOTE I did borrow the idea from Underworld.

_Life. Death. _

Two vastly opposing concepts, yet somehow they were one and the same for her.

_Living in death._ She chuckled at the irony of it all.

At one time she basked in the warm, inviting rays of the sun. At one time she rode the winds with sheer joy, relished the raw power that nature offered her, and worshipped the Goddess in the pure light that life had to offer. At one time she lived.

True, she still was called the Windrider, but it evolved into the name of a hunter. A killer.

When the sun sinks in the horizon and earth is engulfed in darkness, she stirs from her restless, gray slumber. Her senses and reflexes fire with a passion. A passion for the hunt.

Ororo Munroe was no longer the serene, peaceful woman she was long ago known to be. Now she was a ruthless vampire leader. A Death Dealer.


	2. Memories

****

Summary: AU Ororo is a vampire, but not just any vampire. She is a well respected leader of the Death Dealers. What happens when she crosses paths with a dark stranger. A stranger with secrets that could lead to the end of her kind? NOTE I did borrow the idea from Underworld.

Thanks: Pari for being my Beta... you are the WOman-p W6C for encouraging me in the beginning-)

Disclaimer: I do not own X-men, Marvel, etc. etc. I'm a poor high school senior, how the hell could I have that much money?

Review Review Review!

Solitude. So highly underrated. Very few people seem to appreciate the space only silence could provide, letting all your troubles and worries melt away into the ever-growing abyss of anxiety created by the world. Time to cleanse the mind and focus on the important things in life.

From her perch, high above the night sprawl of Westchester scene below, azure eyes scanned the crowd, in search of new prey. The breeze picked up and ruffled the tail of her stark black, leather coat and the wisps of her pixie-short, raven hair danced about her face. Who ever heard of a huntress with platinum blonde hair? Dead giveaway. Aside from that, it was just another reminder of the past, of her former self…

Even with the sights and smells of the humans below attacking her senses, she could keenly pick out _their_ profile. She growled thinking about _them_.

Of late, she found herself forgetting the reason that she hunted them, too caught up in the thrill and duty of the hunt. She knew that their numbers were declining, that they had to be close to extinction and that pleased her. Yet at the same time it left her unsettled. What would happen when there were no more werewolves to hunt?

Tonight was no different than any other. Deciding on a little reconnaissance work, she took only one other Death Dealer with her, the most trustworthy of the group: Remy.

On the streets below, the people were too distracted by the chaos of their own lives, too busy to truly understand and be grateful for what they had: _lives, love, happiness, family_...

She sniffed the air. It was moist and she could sense the tension that accompanied the changing charges between the earth and the sky. A thunderstorm was coming. It reminded her of **_that_ **night. That dreadful night…

_"Come down from their Ororo! It is not fair! You are cheating!" cried a cross little six year old._

_"Nailah, you never said I could not hide amongst the storm clouds… it is perfectly fair!" she replied to her cousin. At twenty-two, she was well past the age of marriage, but who would dare to reprimand the weather witch that provided water for their village?_

_She looked to the horizon and saw that the sun was setting and it was time to take her cousin home. _

"_Alright Nailah, it is time to head back to the village before it gets too dark."_

_Nailah ran off in the opposite direction, through the tall savannah grass in the direction of the village. She stayed back and enjoyed the closeness of the dark. She sensed an emotion akin to anticipation in the environment, something only nature could provide. The tantalizing feeling of an oncoming storm teased her senses, but something was different. She could not place where the feeling came from and shrugged it off._

_Deciding that enough time had passed, she went off in search of her cousin. Gliding over the tall grasses she looked for her. 'She could not have made it to the village so soon.' she thought. Minutes later she could still not find her cousin and began to worry. The pitch blackness of night had descended upon the earth and it was time for them to be within the safety of the village. _

"_NAILAH! Where are you?"_

_To her horror, her only response was a bloodcurdling scream. Panicking, she took to the skies and summoned a ball of lightening to guide her path. She searched wildly across the savannah for her cousin. _

_A blur of crimson caught her attention. In the corner of her eye, she saw the body of her beautiful little cousin, limp on the ground, covered in blood. She descended upon her lifeless form, crying. Her cousin was not moving, not breathing. Her neck was savagely ripped open, and blood was pooling around her head like a dark halo. _

_The parched grass had cracked behind her, and the last thing she saw was her cousin's dead body._

_Sometime later she awoke from unconsciousness in the shelter of a hut. She was soaked through from the rainstorm though she could not recall how she got wet. Memories hit her like a freight train and she remembered her cousin's dead body. Hysterical, she looked around madly, her neck moving violently._

"_Glad to see you alive and well, my dear," said a deep voice. Turning around she saw the large form of a mysterious man and she backed up into the wall. She felt like a cornered animal, as he approached her. His movements were smooth, too smooth, almost liquid-like. Something was different about this man, he was like a hunter… a predator. _

_He emerged from the curtain of shadow, and she looked upon him. He was covered in blood and his skin was pale and lackluster, though you could tell that he was once dark skinned. She looked into his face. What she saw surprised her. He had a concerned, caring look about his aged face, and his eyes looked upon her with worry._

"_Wh… wh… who are you?"_

"_A friend." the stranger replied. "My name is Amahl Farouk. I found you outside the village unconscious next to the body of a child. Everyone in the village is slaughtered. I was tracking a pack of savage beasts when they happened upon your village."_

"_Beasts?"_

"_Yes," he said as he looked carefully upon her, "They are wolves… Werewolves." _

"_Werewolves?"_

"_Murderous beasts," he spat out hatefully, "They walk in daylight as man, and in the light of the moon they become wolves. It is my duty to extinguish every last one of them."_

_Her blue eyes lit up in rage. "They massacred my family! My people!" she cried._

_He looked at her mournfully and replied, "Yes, my child," his look changed to one of deadly seriousness, "Would you like to avenge your family, your friends?"_

_She nodded passionately._

"_Very well. I shall make you one of us… a vampire." _

_She looked at him puzzled, though her eyes did not belie her suspicion._

"_You will feed on blood." he continued, "You will no longer grace the day with your presence. You will become a deadly, efficient hunter in the dark. You will live forever as such. Are you willing to accept this?"_

_The reward of destroying these creatures outweighs the sacrifice of such a life, she thought. _

"_If it means that I may kill these beasts, then so be it," she choked out as she cried tears of anger and deep sadness, her last tears as a mortal._

"What you tinkin' _chere_?" Remy whispered as Ororo flinched. It was one of the few times he could ever sneak up on her. Of late he had noticed she had been distant, somewhat detached…

Her eyes washed over an electric blue color… it only happened when she had an adrenaline rush, especially when she felt the effects of the hunt.

"My thoughts are mine own LeBeau. It would take much more than you catching me off guard to tell you them," she said as she glared at his vermillion eyes.

"Why you gotta be like that _petite_? You know Remy jus' curious. You been different o' late… I jus' care is all." Remy replied. Her words stung him… she knew above all else how much he cared for her.

"I am sorry Remy, you just caught me off guard is all," she replied. "You know how much it irritates me when I am not…" she trailed off, something down below caught her eye.

Three tall, stocky, burly figures emerged from the shadow of an alleyway down below. They were wearing broad, open jackets… large enough to throw off in case of an emergency should the need to shift to their lupine selves arise. They appeared to be stalking someone.

Remy caught sight of Ororo's stare and easily recognized the target. He knew her too well.

"_Stormy_, you said no fighting _chere_, jus' recon and Remy hold you to yo'…"

With that Ororo lept off of her perch and landed gracefully on the sprawling sidewalk below, without waiting for Remy to finish.

"…word."


	3. Encounters

Title: The New Order

Chapter 2 **_Encounters_**

Summary: AU Ororo is a vampire, but not just any vampire. She is a well respected leader of the Death Dealers. What happens when she crosses paths with a dark stranger. A stranger with secrets that could lead to the end of her kind?

Thanks: Pari and Dana for being my Betas... you guys are the best:-p JamesGirl0512 for taking to the idea so quickly!

Disclaimer: I do not own X-men, Marvel, etc. etc. I'm a poor high school senior, how the hell could I have that much money?

Tell me what you think!

"It's a wonda' you haven't gotten yo'self killed yet _chere_," muttered Remy as he leapt off the building following Ororo. As he landed, he fell into a brisk pace by her side, following the lycans.

Just like she had sensed minutes before, the sky opened up and the tears of the Goddess fell through, soaking everyone caught outside of shelter.

"Something is not quite right with this picture, would you not agree Remy?" asked Ororo quietly.

"Non _chere_, other than them bein' careless of bein' sighted by us," deadpanned Remy. "They can't be huntin' him. It's too obvious."

The man the lycans were stalking was of medium build, with broad, square shoulders and a confident, smooth gait as he made his way through the crowd. His wet, unruly, short cropped hair was so black that it seemed to have a bluish tint to it under the passing light of the street lamps above. His brown trench coat, while perfect for his height and of standard body form, failed to hide the fact that he was muscular. He was maybe 5'9" or 5'10" at most, and something about him exuded darkness, strength, and power.

'This is no ordinary man,' thought Ororo.

Profiling the lycans, Ororo noted that tallest was a blonde, maybe 6'3", with a sculptured body and an aggressive step, leading the other two in pursuit. No doubt he was the highest ranking wolf in the group. The other male was about 5'11" and leaner than the blonde, with ragged mahogany colored hair. He was hesitant and kept looking around nervously, as if he knew that their little operation was risky.

"Look at the _petite fille_, Stormy. If she wasn't a lycan…" trailed off Remy.

Ororo snorted. Leave it to Remy to be aware of the females. The sable-haired woman was the shortest of them, maybe 5'7" with a shock of ivory hair drawing attention to her beautiful face which was graced by an angry pout. She had an overconfident swagger and curves to boot.

"Typical Remy. Just typical," commented Ororo, rolling her eyes.

Resuming her watch of the lycan's hunt, Ororo realized something was different about their prey. His posture had changed, stiffened, and he was walking more quickly and cautiously, as if he sensed something… 'He _knows _they're hunting him…' she realized.

"Remy, there is definitely something–" Ororo began but was cut off as the mysterious man abruptly turned the corner, leaving the lycans behind. The blonde wolf continued stalking their prey while the other two broke off.

"I will follow the blonde one, you keep track of the other two," ordered Ororo commandingly.

"With pleasure _padnat,_" replied Remy.

He knew they were following him. They were subtle hunters, but he was no average human. Hell, he was no average mutant either.

'A hunter knows when he's hunted,' thought Logan.

Logan James Howlett, codename Wolverine, was far too experienced a hunter and killer to not notice when he was being tailed.

'Time ta play these rookies at their own game,' he thought as he turned the corner sharply leading him to a small, shadowy side street.

He sensed that the group shadowing him broke up… the overwhelming smell of sewer and wet dog diminished.

"Fuck this shit…" he muttered turning around.

Surprisingly, no one was there.

'Tha nose don't lie bub. Something ain't right here,' he thought instinctively, knuckles itching, hands flexing subconsciously. The sound of his cell phone ringing brought him out of his reverie.

"Wwwwoooollllvvviiiieeeee! Where are you?" he winced as his adopted little sister, Jubilee, whined.

"I'm on my way Jubes. I'm about a block from ya, gimme a sec, 'kay?" he quickly replied.

"Fine, make it snappy mister! We have a very important shopping date and don't you even think of getting out it."

"I know, I know. I'm on it," he said before he hung up.

Testing the air again he realized he did not pick up the odd scent he did before. 'Strange. Your slippin' up bub,' he thought as he resumed walking to meet Jubilee.

'This lil runt is more perceptive than I thought. No matter,' said Logan's stalker to himself as he continued to follow him.

Through the mingling scents of falling rain, lightening, and the city, neither of them noticed the lone, stealthy figure leaping from roof to roof, pursuing all of them.

Logan stepped out into Downtown Crossings and suppressed a sigh. How he hated crowds like these and most of all **shopping**. "Whoever came up with tha damned idea of a shopping mall is burning in hell right now," he muttered darkly to himself.

"What was that Wolvie?" questioned Jubilee as she tackled him.

One thing was for sure, Jubilee could always bring a smile to his face and warmth to his heart, no matter the circumstances. It was a feeling that he had become used to, one that he could not do without, and would kill to protect.

"Nothin' kiddo let's get this show on the road already. Haven't got all tha time and money in tha world ya know," he retorted, grinning at her. "Where to?"

"Filenes! And don't even think of rushin' me big guy," she threw over her shoulder as she dragged him into the entrance of the hulking, three story shop.

"Shit," muttered the blonde lycan, "a public hunt is the last thing I fuckin' need right now. Too bad," and with that he stepped out of the shadows and followed his prey into the store.

'Why are you following him? What is so special about him? It cannot be food that you seek… it is too much work for food,' thought Ororo to herself as she leaped off the roof of an old Gothic building and onto the sprawling street corner.

"What are we lookin' for tonight kid?" Logan asked.

"Well, you have to promise not to get overprotective…" she trailed off.

"Jubes..."

"PROMISE," she stated glaring at him.

"Maybe. What is it?"

"You-know-that-club-called-Shadow? Well-Bobby-wants-to-take-me-there-so-I-need-a-new-hot-outfit," she spilled out hastily.

"Bobby? You mean Popsicle? Shadow is not a safe club for ya ta go to… I've seen some crazy shit in that place," growled Logan, "No. Ya not goin'."

"But Logan…" she whined. 'Shit,' he thought, 'she used my name… she's pissed.'

"It's one of the only hot, new clubs that allows mutants. Wait a sec, you've been there haven't you!" she accused. "You've been there, and you didn't take me!" she screeched.

In the midst of their argument, neither of them noticed the trio of converging hunters, nor those that were following them. Neither of them noticed the tangible escalation of tension in the atmosphere... the bitter sparks of hatred flying between lycans and vampires. Not until shots rang out. A wave of hysteria consumed shoppers as people fled chaotically in search of a hiding place.

Logan tasted the iron tang of blood in the air, and turned quickly to Jubilee who was clutching her arm tightly to her body. He grabbed her and ran to the nearest corner and laid her on the ground.

"Shit Jubes, where are you hit?" he asked as he checked her out frantically.

"It's my arm. It's okay Wolvie, it's not that bad," she squeaked.

Ripping off his trench coat, he tore off a sleeve and tied it tightly around her wounded arm to stop the bleeding. He did not know how he kept his sanity at that point, he felt the all-too-familiar nagging, feral feeling beginning to creep over him.

"I'll be okay Wolvie, go help the people. I can take care of myself, I promise," she reassured him.

"Fine Jubes. Call Xavier and the cops. Don't get up. I'll be back soon." He hated to leave her but he could not safely take her out of the store until the shooting ended and the chaos died down… not to mention there were other people who needed his help and her wound was minor.

Standing up he viewed the scene and saw five people, two distinct groups. One group with a tall white male with auburn hair and disturbing red pupils and black sclera, and a beautiful, tall black female with short cropped ebony hair and cerulean eyes… both were dressed in black leather and trench coats. The other group had three people, all of them scruffy and grimy like they lived in the sewers… 'They must have been following me,' he thought, 'One of em looks like Bobby… better not be.'

"Bobby, Rogue! You two take those bloods… I'm going to find the runt," ordered the blonde lycan.

"Whatevah Creed," retorted Rogue in her trademark southern belle accent.

'I'm gonna have to teach that lil bitch a few manners after this,' thought Creed as he slipped out of the crowd.

"Looks like de wolves don' care 'bout public attention, _non Stormy_?" asked Gambit.

Storm glared at him. "Apparently not Gambit. A confrontation was not what I expected but it seems we have no choice," replied Storm as she observed the hysteria.

"Be careful _belle_, looks like dey closing in. Where de blonde one go?"

"I do not know. Be alert," replied Storm as they split up in search of the lycans.

"Hey there sugah, let's hurry up and get this lil scrap ova wit," taunted Rogue as she grabbed Gambit from behind and threw him against the wall.

"Now why ya wanna do dat _chere_?" asked Gambit as he got up and dusted himself off, "Ya might find ya like me, most _femmes_ do," he flirted as he took out his Glock 19.

Bobby warily looked for the female vamp. He did not like the mission from the beginning and now he just wanted to avoid the conflict and find Jubilee. He was supposed to be a spy of sorts – get close to Jubilee and learn about Logan... he did not expect to have feelings for her.

'This one is skittish and nervous. Easy kill,' thought Storm as she watched him in the shadows. In one quick, fluid move, Storm rushed out of the darkness, grabbed Bobby by the neck, and held him against the wall, eyes changing from cerulean to electric blue, fangs bared.

Instinctively, Bobby's fingers shifted into claws and swiped at her, cutting her trench coat and slicing though her arm to the bone. Storm gasped in pain and dropped Bobby, clutching her arm. The distraction was enough for Bobby to make a run for the subway stop next to the store. 'Not so fast pup,' Storm thought as she pulled out her Glock 35 and shot Bobby in the shoulder. He stumbled but continued his escape to the subway with Storm trailing behind him.

What she did not realize was that she was not the only one following Bobby.

'Guess the pretty lil cunt packs a punch,' thought Creed, smirking as he watched his prey follow the blood and the wolf.

"Well I ain't most 'femmes' blood!" retorted Rogue as she ran behind the cover of a pillar.

"I can see dat _chere_… I can definitely see dat," replied Gambit as he stalked his way to the other side of the pillar.

"If I didn't know betta blood, I'd say ya hittin' on lil ole me."

"_Ma belle_, it truly be a shame fo' Gambit here ta kill ya, 'cause you a perfectly fine _femme_, and I woulda shown ya a good time, _non_?" said Gambit as he rounded the pillar only to find that his lycan was no where to be found.

With lightening speed, she crawled down the pillar. "Naw sugah, I'll show _you_ a good time," whispered Rogue into Remy's ear, placing her lips on Gambit's temple.

"Merde," he choked out, getting dizzy as Rogue drained some of his energy. Ready to collapse, he managed to grab his gun and blindly shoot upwards, startling Rogue, allowing him to drop and crawl over to a wall. Jumping down off the pillar, Rogue looked at him strangely, distantly, as if she could see into his soul. Slowly she backed away from him and as she turned, she muttered over her shoulder, "Sorry sugah."

Stepping into the crowded subway, Storm had to holster her gun and track the lycan by the scent of his blood, which was difficult given the assortment of smells attacking her senses. As she scanned the crowd, she saw the lycan nervously shoving his way through the crowd in a frantic attempt to escape her. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile as her hunt resumed.

A few steps back, Logan observed the huntress. She was maybe 5'8"or 5'9," and from the back, her figure was hidden by her dark cloak, but he could tell from her movements that she was strong. The leather was atypical of the traditional gangs found in these parts, which he assumed was the reason the fight broke out. 'Her actions are more characteristic of an assassin,' he thought.

Suddenly, she darted off into the crowd in pursuit of her target, and he took off after her.

Bobby saw the subway cars speed by, taking the opportunity to jump the tracks and weave his way into the tunnel entrances to the sewers. He dared not to look back because he knew she would be right on top of him. Desperately he turned corners and jumped into the darkness in an attempt to save himself.

Creed realized that Bobby's path would lead the blood straight to the den. 'Fool,' he cursed, 'In your panic you're leading her straight fuckin' to us.' He was forced to break away from his prey and cut the vampire off from the other side.

Remy finally regained enough energy to move and as he stood up, he was hit with the scent of human blood. Looking around, he saw a young teenage girl huddled in the corner, shivering with her arm wrapped in a cloth. She looked up at him, and what he found shocked him. Her eyes were fearless, as if she was daring him to come near her.

"_Petite_, I will not hurt ya. Let Remy see yo' arm," he whispered gently.

"Don't come near me," she admonished him.

"Ya were wit' de man dey were huntin', _non_?"

She eyed him distrustfully.

"_Belle_, if I wanted ta hurt ya, I woulda done so already. Now let Remy help ya."

Letting her guard down she replied, "Alright, but just don't try nothin' funny or I'll totally hurt you."

He had to laugh at that, he liked her spunk.

"Ya have my word, _chere_."

Ororo relentlessly pursued the young lycan through the tunnel system, all the while examining her surroundings. 'That's odd,' she thought as she heard noises coming from the steam vents and air ducts in the tunnels. The echoes reminded her of fighting dogs.

'Where is this pup leading me to? Where are all these sounds coming from? We are too far from the subway for it be that,' Storm thought.

Out of nowhere, Storm was pushed roughly, flying head first into the opposite wall and landing heavily on the floor.

Dazed she looked up into the glossy, onyx eyes of the blonde lycan.

Licking the side of her face, Creed's hot breath filled her ear as he whispered, "For a blood, you are a pretty one, you know. Your loss… if you were a lycan, I would have fucked you senseless."

Angered, Storm's eyes glowed brightly as she bared her fangs and hissed at him. Laughing, Creed grabbed her throat and lifted her up the wall with one arm.

"What was that, blood? Did you say something?" he taunted as he hit her against the wall and threw her into a dark corner.

As she looked up, she could not determine where the darkness ended and the ceiling began, and the thought made her stomach tighten in fear. Suddenly, there was not enough air in the tunnel to fill her lungs, and the light was dimming. She felt the crushing fist of claustrophobia enclose around her. She reached for her Glock 35 and unholstered it but the lycan knocked it out of her hands, grabbing the collar of her trench coat and lifting her upper body to him. Her senses were overwhelmed and she was hyperventilating. Her eyes turned ivory. Electricity was coursing through her veins, and she began to convulse.

"What the fuck are you doing bitch?" sneered Creed as he observed her strange behavior.

"Back away from the lady, bub," ordered an unfamiliar voice.

"Well, well, well runt…" snorted Creed as he slowly turned around to face his prey, "does something interest you in this… creature?" he said as he pointed off-hand to Ororo.

"No, just you. And the name's Logan."

Creed smirked at this. "Well, I'm not here to have a tea party. I'm here for you, so let's make this easy on you, **runt**," sneered Creed.

"If you say so, bub."

The silence was killing her. How could anyone be so quiet… jeez it was almost unbearable.

"So… Mr. …" she trailed off.

"Tha name be Remy, _belle_, jus' Remy."

"Right er, Remy. I need to find Logan… the guy I was with. He told me to stay put, so I don't know how he's gonna find me." She said apprehensively, "Where are you carrying me anyway? I mean, I feel like we've been goin' on forever. It's like–"

"Sshhh _chere_, if ya wan' Remy ta find dis Logan ya gotta be quiet," he whispered to her.

"I see, I'm sorry," she replied quietly, "If you don't mind me asking, where'd you get eyes like those?"

Remy sighed at this. He realized he better sate her curiosity or else every lycan in the area would know where they were. Looking around, he decided to place her on the ground to talk to her.

"I was a mutant little one… I was born wit' dem."

"Really! That's so hot. I'm a mutant too. What do you mean was? You can't stop bein' a mutant and it's not like you're dead or anything."

Remy smiled down at her. Her youth and curiosity reminded him of himself as a child.

"Ya might be surprised _petite_."

"What's that supposed to mean Remy."

"Ya trust Remy enough, right Jubilee?"

"I wouldn't let ya carry me around if I didn't."

"Now _belle_ ya have ta promise ole Remy here ta not be frightened."

At this she quirked an eyebrow. "Okay Remy, I promise."

He smiled at her, "_Chere_, I'm a vampire."

Her mouth hung agape and her eyes were about to roll out of their sockets. Suddenly, her face melted into a scowl. She elbowed him with her good arm. "Remy don't play with me, I am not a child."

"How 'bout I show ya den?" and with that he bared his fangs at her.

Shock was written all over her face. Gingerly, she lifted her good hand up to his face and nimbly touched one of his fangs. After brushing against them, she pulled her hand back quickly.

"Holy crap, they're real," she said in an awe-filled voice, "THAT IS TOTALLY AWESOME!"

"I've neva done dis befo' _chere_. There mus' be somethin' special 'bout ya," he said as he mussed up her hair. "Here _belle_," he said as he undid his Algiz necklace, "I want ya ta take dis. If ya eva need somethin' jus' press de button on tha back of tha pendant. I'll know ya need me and I'll find ya."

"Gee, thanks Remy. I don't know what to say."

"It's no problem _chere_. Now let's get movin'. _Petite_, I need ya ta be absolutely silent. I have ta track Logan by sound," he said as he picked her up.

"Okay."

And with that they set off, down the winding tunnels in search of her guardian and his _padnat_.

"Aw shit!" roared Creed as Logan soundly kicked him in the stomach.

"Who was it gonna be easy on again, bub?"

"Shut up fuck face!"

Ororo stirred languidly, raising herself up in sitting position. What she viewed surprised her. She did not realize that the human had such fighting skills… he was simply amazing. For all of his appearance, he was nimble and had the fluid grace of a feline.

"Enough of this shit, runt. You don't know who you're fuckin' messin' with," yelled Creed as he began to shift into his lupine form.

'What tha fuck! What tha hell is this asshole changing into?' thought Logan.

Suddenly the air current shifted in the tunnel.

"Not so fast lycan," spat Storm disdainfully as she grabbed two silver throwing stars, asked the winds to guide them, and released them. They hit the wolf in the middle of his transformation, effectively reverting him back to human form. After he was hit, Storm shuddered from her emotional and physical exhaustion and fell unconscious.

Logan looked at the woman on the floor strangely. 'Something is different about her,' he thought.

Seeing that Logan was distracted and Storm was knocked out, Creed made a hasty exit. The wounds in his shoulder and gut were deep and would seriously hinder his fighting ability.

Turning around, Logan realized that the blonde had escaped. 'Pussy,' thought Logan who turned back to attend to the fallen woman. As he crouched before her, he realized something about her struck a familiar chord in his memory. The almond shaped eyes, full lips, high cheekbones, and the gentle slope of her forehead… he had seen her before.

"Who are ya, darlin'?" he wondered.

FLASHBACK

The beat of club was pulsing and the human waves of dancing melded into one flowing, liquid mass. It was enough to drown the senses, and lull one's mind into a hypnotic stupor.

It was awkward for him… the whole club scene. He was much more of a kick-back-in-the-local-bar type of guy, but it was what _she_ enjoyed. Thinking of her crippled him… his red-haired, green-eyed beauty. He missed her, undeniably so. There was no closure for him… for his loss. He often blamed himself… 'What if I had been there five minutes earlier? Maybe the house wouldn't have been raided and she kidnapped.' But grief and moping does not prove any consolation. Neither does a year of traveling across the godforsaken country looking for her.

"Jean," he sighed as he took a gulp of his drink. He never even heard her steps, or smelled her scent as she walked up to him.

"And how do you like Shadow tonight, sir?" an unfamiliar feminine voice asked.

He snorted. "Well, it's not all that great…" he trailed off as he turned around, but what he saw made him forget what he was going to say next.

She was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous, and not in the flashy way Jean was. No, she was natural and exotic. Softly curled, long platinum blonde hair, sky-blue cat eyes, cinnamon colored skin, full cherry red lips. 'Damn,' he thought, as he continued his perusal. He noted her outfit, a sky blue halter top, the very same color as her eyes, that stopped just below her round breasts, and lined with silver, She had a matching low cut skirt that accentuated her hips as it wrapped around and met in the front, held by a silver brooch, and flowed down the center, stopping mid-thigh. Her scent was different… she smelled of jasmine and sandalwood and something else he could not place. It tickled his senses, taunting and alluring, yet it remained a mystery.

"And why would you say that? I suppose you have not found anything to your liking here?" she asked in her elegant, accented voice.

"Well, I wouldn't say that quite jus' yet. It's jus' not my type of scene," he stated. "And ya would be…?"

"Ororo," she said as she held out her hand, "Ororo Munroe. I am the owner of Shadow. If you do not mind my asking Mr. …?"

"Logan," he replied, grasping her hand in a firm handshake.

"Mr. Logan, why are you here tonight if it is not 'your scene' as you put it?"

"It's none of your damn business lady," he growled tersely… he never liked it when people pried into his business.

"I see," she responded icily as she stepped away, "Well Mr. Logan, have a good night."

'Dammit, Logan ya dumbfuck, ya did it again,' he thought. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her, "Wait, I'm–" he said as she stiffened and slowly turned around, but the look she gave him stopped him mid-sentence… her eyes, they were electric blue and her glossy lips were parted, showing glimpses of her teeth. It was almost feral.

She looked at her arm, which he quickly released, and she continued on into the crowd, blending into the masses. 'Whoa. There is definitely something off about her,' he thought.

END FLASHBACK

'Well,' he thought, 'Ya definitely bear resemblance ta Ororo. So much so, that I'd say you're tha same girl, just wit' short, spiky black hair. Ya don't smell tha same though… ya don't even have a smell… just like a predator.'

A small garnet rivulet of blood trailed down her forehead and he realized that she had a head wound. "Shit," he cursed. Ripping off his sleeve, he wiped up the blood and felt her forehead. He was shocked. Her skin was freezing. "Jesus," he mumbled. She was abnormally cold… no living person should be that cold.

He heard the faint, muffled sounds of footsteps. Whoever it was knew how to tread quietly enough, so quiet that if he was not paying attention, he would not have heard them. Standing up, he arranged himself in a defensive stance.

He sniffed the air. He could smell blood. Lycan blood. Ororo's blood. His insides churned and his mind screamed for his _padnat_. He held Jubes closer to him and stalked closer to the source of the scent.

"Back away from da _femme_, _homme._ NOW," commanded a man who stepped out of the shadows. By the looks of it, the man was carrying someone, but through the chaotic smells of blood and sewer he could not recognize their scents.

"Come out where I can see ya," he retorted.

"Wolvie?"

"Jubes! What tha fuck? Let her go ya bastard or I swear I'll tear ya ta pieces."

"It's okay Wolvie, this is a friend. His name's Remy," stated Jubilee calmly as Remy set her on her feet.

As she walked up to him, Logan noticed that apart from the crude bandage he made out of his sleeve was a sling, also made out of cloth. "How's your arm, kid?"

"It hurts a little Wolvie, but Remy made a sling for me so I didn't have to hold it up."

Looking for his sister's rescuer, he noticed that he and the fallen woman vanished. "What the… I didn't even hear them leave." 'Gotta pay more attention, bub,' he thought.

"Yeah, Remy's a stealthy one," remarked Jubilee with a hint of a smile as she fingered the Algiz pendant.

"C'mon Jubes, let's get ya to Xavier's place so we can fix you up," Logan said as he picked her up and exited the tunnels.


End file.
